July 2009 Story Contest

Cara You can do anything!  by microphone & Black Mist age 12

            I stared at the chestnut horse in front of me. I flinched. “Mom, I can’t ride. I just can’t!” I started sobbing. Ever since my horse, Princess, had fallen while jumping and broken her leg, I hadn’t been able to ride. I had had to see her being put down. I had also broken my arm. “Cara, I know it’s hard losing a horse, but you have to get over it and go on with your life.” “No!” I yelled, tears streaming down my face. “I’m not riding!” I ran into the house to stare at my picture of my bay mare with a small star on her face and one white foot. “Oh, Princess, I miss you so much!” I sobbed. I stayed in my room until dinner. “Honey, come down please! I made chicken salad!” I almost fell down the stairs. I ate the salad, but might as well have been eating cardboard. “Cara, I know it’s hard, remember I lost Pinocchio when I was only your age.” “Princess was different than Pinocchio!”

            The next day my mother tried again. “Maybe,” was all I said. “Darling,” “Fine! I’ll ride her, but I’m not going to like it!” I screamed. My mom gave me a leg up and I gripped the reins extremely tightly. I clicked my tongue and the horse started forward. “Ah!” I exclaimed. “Get me down!” I begged. Even just walking scared me to death.

            “Honey, stay up there! Jingles isn’t going to hurt you!” I disobeyed and stopped. I dismounted and ran to the house. “Stupid Jingle Jangle and stupid Mom!” I screamed. I flopped onto my pillow and fell asleep crying. The next morning my best friend, Annie, came over. “Cara, you can ride. Look at what you did yesterday! You can do anything Cara! Jingle Jangle is perfect for you to regain your confidence riding. Be glad you don’t have a frisky thoroughbred like I do.” “At least you can actually ride.” I mumbled. “Let’s go down now and get Jingles tacked up!” Annie said, already rushing down the stairs.

            I whined and whimpered like a dog when I got back up on the horse. I clicked and she moved forward. “Try a trot!” Annie instructed. I was nervous, extremely nervous. I kicked and Jingles started to canter. “Ah!” “Stay in the saddle, grip her mane!” I squeezed with my legs and held tight to Jingle’s long mane. After a while, I began to enjoy cantering. I sat up straighter, let go of her mane, and gripped her reins. A smile, something that hadn’t been seen on my face for a month, stretched onto my face, which turned into a broad grin! Annie said, “Mrs. Frederickson! Come see this!” My mom came rushing out. “Cara! You can do anything!”